Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Tuesday Rambling, and a WonderBaby Hatstravaganza!

So, I was deliberating between two Big Heavy Posts for today - hmm... shall I pontificate on Religion and Childrearing, or deliver My Big Thoughts on Judith Warner's Perfect Madness? - when, during my early morning fave blog troll, I came across Kristen's bladder-stimulating spoof of my writing:

Don'tcha all be slammin' on my ma, yo. She be teaching me MAD words. Check it:

Jack and Jill ascended the acclivityTo retrieve a brazier of the liquid that descends from the clouds as rain and is the major constituent of all living matter.Jack toppled bottomwardAnd fractured his craniumAnd Jill came plummeting post-hence.

Back now? Good. So, as I was saying, I was going to devote today's post to the further enlightenment of the blogosphere, until I realized that a) I couldn't possibly do so without coming off as a spoof of myself, b) to do so would risk revealing to new readers that I am not as smart as Kristen might think I am, and c) the coffee that I made this morning is CRAP and undrinkable and I cannot spin the big words unless I am caffeinated.

So what y'all get instead? Random nonsense! And hats!

What Bad Mother has been thinking about today:

1) Kevin Federline. Apparently, the media is to blame for his foray into, um, musical performance. 'Cause, really, what other choice did he have? What kind of role model to his children - the new one and the old ones that were left with the (pregnant at the time) wife he abandoned - would he be if he went and got a real job instead of whoring off of his baby-dropping celebrity wife?

Why do I waste brain cells on this sort of thing? Because I have an obsessive interest in the decline of Western Civilization. Whether it's K-Fed ('but you can call me daddy' ew ew ew), or David Hasselhoff (yes, I have a grim fascination with David Hassehoff. I just don't understand. K-fed, sadly, I understand: untold numbers of greasy slacker losers look at him and think Yes, DUDE and similar numbers of girls with low self-esteem think he's hot. So, sad, but, sadly, understandable. David Hasselhoff? Just do not get it. Just don't. Have you seen his work? Yeah, I know, Baywatch was the Miami Vice of the nineties and so apparently there's some pop cultural import there, tho' I don't see it, and apparently it can be read as a family ensemble in the tradition of the Waltons so maybe it's just good wholesome fun. But this? Please), or the fact that somebody, somewhere, thinks that Sharon Stone is still a sex symbol - it's all evidence that we're all going to hell in a cultural handbasket. And I'm taking notes.

2) What to name WonderBaby's new playmate. She looks pretty gothy and I-see-dead-peopleish, which is why I like her, and so I thought about naming her Siouxsie. Or maybe Miss Jessel, from The Turn of the Screw... Any suggestions?

3) How and why it is that I am turning into a beer pig. I used to be the martiniest girl around (shaken, so dry as to be parched, with olive), when I wasn't appreciating the finer Bordeaux varietals, preferably those with philosophic provenance. Which is to say, liquor snob. But now that one martini gets me sloppy drunk and gives me a Gulliverian hangover (those bulbous-headed Lilliputians that Kristen had me imagining? Hangover midgets banging on my head. In fact, that whole paragraph was a description of my martini hangover) and wine can compromise milk supply. But beer... ah, beer. Sweet, dark nectar of the gods. Can increase milk supply, and one pint glass of a rich creamy dark can last an hour or more and so hangover risk is minimal. And I've developed a taste for it. Guinness, Kilkenny, Belgian Lambecs brewed by Trappist monks... yum. Love it. But am struggling with transformation of my drinker identity: beer is for frat boys, pool players and aficionados of team sports, is it not? And I am none of these. I am a lactating mother. I am drinking a Fuller's London Porter right now. Bring on the beer!

4) Whether or not to go to Blogher. I would love to, I really would - learn more about this writing medium that I have become addicted to! Meet cool, literate, funny moms! Weekend vacation! - and Husband is saying go for it, but... still ambivalent. I'm new at this, for one, so it seems ambitious. Also? I'm not very good at conferences where I don't deliver a paper (if you plug 'Machiavelli' into the subject search here, you'll find HBM's alter academic ego), thereby establishing my membership in The Group and so minimizing imposter syndrome.) I've been known to hug the odd corner with tongue in throat when in rooms with people that I don't know (OK, I'm exaggerating. I know how work a room. But my inner shy girl hugs the corners and then obsesses about what people in the room thought of me.) And? I won't be attending an academic conference this year, and I already have issues about eschewing academic writing in favour of blogging, so to head off to a blogging conference while skipping APSA (which I swore swore swore that I would attend, even if I didn't present a paper) seems irresponsible. And, perhaps, like a detour that will take me an even greater distance from the work that I 'should' be doing. But! So tempting...

5) How many hats a baby should have. We're at about 14 right now. But people, she's bald. OK, fuzzy. Pale, yellow Easter chick fuzz. So we rock the hats.

33 Comments:

Adorable pics! And if you go to APSA, I have a whole slew of folks you can look up for me ;-). In fact, I probably even have a paper you could deliver, although it probably needs some polishing and updating:-).

I love verbose, big-word HBM and I love the new, rambly random HBM. I would be delighted to make the acquaintance of either at Blog Her, so big-word HBM better get on the horn with random HBM and work something out, stat.

Hair is such a marker. My hatless, mostly hairless girl child was called "he" again today, despite wearing a pink shirt. I just refuse to paste a bow to her head, so we suffer the confusion of store clerks throughout our metro-area.

C'mon, Germans love David Hasslehoff and a whole country of Knight Rider lovers can't be wrong!

Siouxsie, Siouxsie, Siouxsie! Damn, now I can't get that Jeepers Creepers song out of my head. peeEEEk-aBOO.

And there are many, many beer snobs out there (a lot of them living in the Boston area, as a matter of fact) that could do a much better job than I at extolling the virtues of the perfect pint. Personally, I love a cold beer on a hot summer day.

I would like to put in a request for more hat pictures. I lurve the hats.

Ill go to blogher if you do! Let me know! (though I'm not exactly sure what it is, but will go to the site.) WE should all go - it could be fun, or it could not be fun, but in a fun way. you know what I mean.

Ok, it was Kristens post that brought me here today, and I have to say, I think I might be hooked. Your rendition of Jack and Jill had me giggling like a madwoman. My husband talks like that all the time. Instead of telling my son to "stop" he tells his to "cease" instead of asking him if he wants ice cream he'll ask if he wants a "delicious dairy product" or something...

Thanks for the giggles. Plus, now I see that my husband isn't the only weirdo that likes to transform songs and such into verbal masterpieces. ;)

hey, its funny that your husband groaned at your Jack and Jill rendition. That is usually how I react to my husbands renditions too. Hahah, maybe from you I will learn to have a better appretiation.

PS: I edited the post to link to the book if you want to check it out. I'd love to have a smart cookie (and a fellow torontonian no less) like yourself on board- if you click on the picture it will take you to a further explanation of what the blog a book along is about.

hey, its funny that your husband groaned at your Jack and Jill rendition. That is usually how I react to my husbands renditions too. Hahah, maybe from you I will learn to have a better appretiation.

PS: I edited the post to link to the book if you want to check it out. I'd love to have a smart cookie (and a fellow torontonian no less) like yourself on board- if you click on the picture it will take you to a further explanation of what the blog a book along is about.

I think a baby can own as many hats as her mother damn well pleases! LOL- and Leah doesn't have very much hair and she's one, so I wouldn't worry. And I love beer too. Seems to be a theme on the comments today lol.

1) We're on the express train to a Roman Downfall. These are but a few of the glaring examples. I maintain that Reality Televison is the modern day equivilent of the gladiators and Christians thrown to the lions.

2) That is one scary doll.

3) Beer is good.

4) Anything that keeps your interest and your brain running is worthwhile. Go to the conference.

5) A girl can NEVER have too many hats. My Mom used to tape bows to my head because what little hair I had was too thin to hold a barrette.

My daughter didn't have enough hair to cover her big beautiful head until she was well past two. We rocked the hats. K-Fed, well there are no words for him or Mr. Hasselhoff. And Blogher, you should go. Because I can't and I'd love to read the posts you could come up with after attending. Who knows, maybe you'd meet those bulbous-headed Lilliputians Kristen talks about!

#1. K-Fed is ew, ew, ew, yuck! As for The Hasselhoff you must watch The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie & only then will his genius become apparent. Oh & then there's this(hope that link works)

#2. I second the Siouxsie. (Peek-a-boo)

#3. Nothing like a tall cool Guinness to end a day of cute hats, spit-up & poop. Frat boys & team sports people tend to drink Labatts or Molson. There's no iron in that crap.

#4. Blogher would be cool but I too would be in the corner probably in a pool of my own drool & tears because ack! am total loser!

#5. I think our lovely babes are a week apart (Nov.8 here) & they seem to have the same amount of hair plus an uncanny eye resemblance. All winter she would scream in protest & pull off any hat we put on her (didn't like all the brain squeezing). We now have 1 that she tolerates. So yes, you guys totally rock the hats.

i can one up you on the "should be doing academic research/writing and not always blogging" angst. i am currently trying to find ways to get my boss to fully fund my trip to BlogHer (a trip that is only in my own mind right now) in the name of academic professional development. I work as faculty member at a digital humanities research center, see, so it would be *research..* but this might involve said boss reading my blog, and seeing how much i like the curse words and toilet humor.

Just so there's no confusion - I do not not not not think that Mr. Britney is hot, nor that Sharon Leggsy McSpread'em Stone is a sex symbol. I'm just making a guess in the first case, and am going off of the fact that they made Basic Instinct II in the second. But, Mrs. Fortune, you're right - such worlds would be bizarro worlds. And I probably should never ever have used 'hot' and K-fed together in a sentence.

GGC? You organize a Babyz Gone Hat conference and WonderBaby and I will be there, stat. Toting a trunkful of hats. Some of which are gender-neutral and could fit other well-headed babies... just sayin'...

Gah. So the Husband reads this and asks me, 'when did you give birth?' Not, as it happens, on November 15, 2005. November 14. ***14***. 5 months into motherhood and I've already gotten my daughter's birthday wrong. You'd think that I'd remember something that involved getting my nether regions torn up. Oh, and bringing the joy of my life into the world.

I love that WonderBaby leaves her beautiful hats upon her adorable head. I've been also marveling at the fact that she seems to be sitting without being propped up since she at least four months old. Is this so?

It's a damn good thing that I'm not a celebrity or I would have been feeling the wrath of the media when my oldest started falling down an escalator that was going up. The endless fall. It was so scary. I tortured myself about it and certainly wouldn't have been able to handle the scorn of the media and general public. Not that I’m supporting the antics of Brit and K-fed. Those two are whack!

Dude I did the same thing yesterday, adding a day to my daughter's birthday (November 8th, not 9th dumbass - like they would've let me go any longer). And this was of course at a new library mommy/baby group thing. Way to make a good impression by forgetting one of the most important dates in my life.

OMG. I am cracking up. I will have to tell my mentor that next time he calls to see whethere I am in fact ever coming back to work with him. I would love to see the look. All boobs and diapers indeed! You just made my day.

David Horsenpepper? You would love his albums, if you haven't got them already. The reviews are great! In fact, if you're a fan, you might want to add your voice to the chorus and write one yourself! Do you have this one?

You're on to something.Beer is truly the hip beverage of choice for sleep deprived mothers.Think of yourself as one of those influential types in Malcolm Gladwell's "the Tipping Point" in this regard. Try "Blanche de Chambly".(A weiss beer as the name suggests).It is a sophisticated brew that should appeal to your opera-loving side though perhaps more "Dialogues of the Carmelites" than "Merry Widow".